


home

by anyprotein



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Reunions, feat. christopher “i’m incredible with a microwave” kreider, this is disgustingly soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 05:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20040451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyprotein/pseuds/anyprotein
Summary: Mika finally comes back from Sweden to stay with Chris again.





	home

**Author's Note:**

> the time has come—i’m finally posting a non-smut fic!  
this was actually originally for an intro scene to a different fic, but it got longer than expected, and i kinda like it as a standalone  
so it may get a sequel down the line!  
but anyway, i saw [this](https://twitter.com/nhl/status/1153731108334395392?s=21) and knew i wanted to write a fic w chris learning to cook, and here we are now

Chris can’t help smiling as he drives to the airport. After months apart, Mika’s _ finally _coming back, and he’s living with Chris again. They’ve talked every day since the season ended, the time difference thankfully manageable, but it’s still been tough. He’s missed being able to reach out and touch Mika whenever he wants, wrap an arm around him and pull him close. He’s missed the warmth of Mika lying beside him at night, and trying to drag him out of bed in the morning. He’s missed the eye roll and fond smile Mika gives him whenever he decides to blurt out whatever random thought or question comes to mind apropos of nothing.

He’s missed Mika. 

But he doesn’t have to anymore, and that thought alone is enough to get him excited. With that, he turns up the volume on the playlist Mika made him for the summer, and he finds himself quietly singing along until he pulls into the parking garage. He’s gotten two texts from Mika while driving: one confirming that he’s landed and one telling him which carousel his flight will be at, both with excessive emojis. Chris’s heart flips as he reads them, and he wastes no time heading to the baggage claim. 

It’s a testament to his willpower that Chris doesn’t run across the room and tackle Mika the instant he sees him. He looks too dressed up for a 9+ hour flight, but that’s nothing new. His hair looks like it’s gotten longer, and Chris feels his fingers twitch at the thought of running his hands through it again. When he’s finally close enough, he calls Mika’s name, and Chris wants to keep the smile Mika is wearing as he turns to face him for the rest of his life.

“Hey,” is all Mika says, but both of them are grinning like idiots as they hug each other. Chris’s fingers dig into Mika’s back, holding him tightly; he can’t help but revel in the feeling of having Mika in his arms again. They stay like that for longer than what most people would consider strictly platonic, but Chris considers it a victory solely for the fact that he manages to stop himself from kissing Mika right there in the middle of Logan Airport. He makes basic post-flight small talk as they wait for Mika’s bags, asking about the trip and what movies he watched and whatever else comes to mind. As soon as they’re in the car together, though, the act falls away, and they’re leaning over the center console to finally, _ finally _ kiss one another. He can feel the way Mika shivers as their lips meet, his hands already having found their way into Mika’s hair to feel that it _ has, _in fact, grown a little. Mika’s hands are fisted in his shirt like he can’t get them close enough, and it’s at least a few minutes before the desperation peters out enough for them to pull apart, breathless and happy. 

“I missed you,” Chris says, like it isn’t obvious. 

“I missed you too,” Mika replies, brown eyes warm in a way he doesn’t show often. Chris kisses him again, softer this time. 

“Ready to go home?” 

Mika snorts quietly. “I’ve been ready for about three months now.”

Chris puts the car in reverse to stop himself from climbing over the center console then and there. 

———

“You hungry?” Chris asks as they walk up to the front door, huge suitcases in tow. 

“Ugh, starving,” Mika groans. Chris smiles as he opens the door, rolls the suitcases aside, and turns to face Mika. 

“I made dinner!” Mika doesn’t suppress his wary expression fast enough, so Chris continues. “I’ve been practicing all summer— haven’t had much else do, really.”

Mika cracks a smile then, waiting until he’s set his suitcases aside as well to speak. “Oh, so no medium rare chicken tonight?” 

Chris glares at him, failing to put any actual heat in it. “That happened _ once _.” 

Mika only raises an eyebrow, clearly trying not to laugh. 

“Oh come on, you know the outside looked fine,” Chris argues, his defense well-practiced. They’ve had this conversation several times before; Mika loves teasing him about it. 

“Sure it did,” Mika says, still grinning as he steps into Chris’s space.

“I can still kick you out,” Chris grumbles, but he can’t hold back a smile as he wraps his arms around Mika again, teasing all but forgotten. There’s less urgency to their embrace this time; both are content to just exist in each other’s space, feel the closeness they’ve longed for. Mika lays his head on Chris’s shoulder, and Chris presses his lips above his ear. He can smell the expensive shampoo and conditioner Mika uses, and he thinks it’s funny that such a small detail can feel so comforting to him. 

“I’m glad you’re here again,” Chris murmurs, and he means it. He isn’t sure when it happened, exactly, but he never feels as at home as he does when he’s with Mika. 

Mika nods, mumbling a quiet, “Me too,” into Chris’s neck. After a moment he lifts his head to kiss Chris again, this time slow and lazy, indulgent. By the time they pull apart, Mika looks wholly content, eyes heavy-lidded like he’s ready to go to bed. Chris wouldn’t be surprised; there’s no doubt he’s feeling a little jet-lagged. He woke up obnoxiously early for his flight, and it must be pushing 1am in his original time zone. That’s not something a plane nap can make up for. He brings a hand up to cup the side of Mika’s face, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbones.

“Alright, how about you go sit at the table, and I’ll heat up the food?” 

Mika hums, considering. “Can we eat on the couch?” 

Chris shrugs. “Yeah, sure.” 

With that, they slowly part, and Chris heads to the kitchen to get the plates he’d wrapped up and put them in the microwave. He asks Mika about his time in Sweden while he waits, fully taking advantage of the fact that bringing up his niece is a surefire way to get him going. He’s describing their latest matching outfit when Chris walks over to the couch, balancing two plates, sets of silverware, and glasses of water in his arms because he doesn’t believe in two trips. Mika chuckles at the sight before he continues, and Chris politely does not mention the fact that Mika had texted him pictures of the two of them the day he bought it. 

Once they’re settled, pressed up against each other, plates in their laps, Mika finally says, “This looks good,” and Chris flashes him a smile that is equal parts smug and flattered. 

“Told you I’d been practicing.”

“I got suspicious when I heard the microwave.”

“You know, Alton Brown said on Cutthroat Kitchen that a microwave can do most forms of cooking if you know how to use it correctly.”

“Wow, you really didn’t have much going on this summer, huh?”

“Shut up.” Chris elbows him, and Mika laughs, loud and bright. The sound is almost enough to make Chris forget the jab. Almost. “We don’t all have music festivals to play for in the offseason, _ DJ Mika. _”

“Mmm, you’re right,” Mika says, nodding seriously. “You had no choice but to watch Food Network reality shows.”

Chris laughs at that before following up with the excuse he’d used on himself as well. “I was trying to improve my cooking.”

Mika turns to him with a grin. “Yeah, I bet Cutthroat Kitchen is _ very _educational.”

“Of course it is. How else am I going to learn the proper technique for cooking food while trapped on a large hammock?”

Mika laughs again. “I guess you’re right; I didn’t even think of the hammocks.” 

After they finish their dinner, Chris sets their dishes on the coffee table and puts his arm around Mika, and he decides that the couch was a much better choice than sitting at the table, where he couldn’t get close to Mika like this. As the conversation dies down, Mika yawns quietly, and Chris gently rubs his back.

“Bed?” 

Mika nods, leaning more heavily against him. 

“Alright.” With that, Chris carefully gets out from under Mika and reaches a hand out to help him to his feet. They keep their hands linked as they make their way to his bedroom, shoulders bumping together, and Mika more or less flops onto the bed as soon as they reach it. He seems to take a moment to enjoy it before he sits up and starts tugging off his jeans, stripping down to a t-shirt and his briefs, and Chris can’t stop smiling at the sight. After all, Mika is finally in his bed again, and the sight alone is enough to fill him with warmth. 

After making himself comfortable under the sheets, Mika looks up at Chris expectantly. Chris doesn’t hesitate before he strips down to his boxers and turns on a lamp so he can turn off the overhead lights. He settles in next to Mika, who immediately scoots closer, the look in his eyes as soft as it is sleepy. He gets an arm around Mika and kisses him softly again. He’s not all that tired, but he’s content to lie here with Mika while he sleeps, his Kindle already sitting on the nightstand if he needs it. 

“Can you turn off the light?” 

Chris murmurs an affirmative before reaching over to flip the switch, plunging the room into darkness.

“Mmm, thanks,” Mika mumbles, sounding sleepier by the minute. “Love you.”

Chris pulls him closer and presses a kiss to what he thinks is Mika’s forehead. 

“Love you too.”

Mika hums contentedly, and it’s not much longer before he falls asleep.

In the end, Chris ends up leaving his Kindle untouched on the nightstand. Instead, he loses track of time listening to the soothing rhythm of Mika’s breathing, eventually following him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
